


Left behind.

by OnceUponADream_Cal



Series: Those left behind. bat's dealing with death. [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bat Family, Dick grayson in dead(or they think he is), Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-09 13:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10413231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceUponADream_Cal/pseuds/OnceUponADream_Cal
Summary: Damian comes back to life, only to find out Dick is dead.





	1. Chapter 1

            Damian Wayne was alive. Dick Grayson was not. Father had told him shortly before returning to the manor, to the rest of the family, but for some reason he didn’t understand it, he didn’t believe Batman. It wasn’t until after he had been welcomed back, with too many tears and hugs for his liking, that it started to register. Until he was getting hugged by everyone but the one person _he_ wanted to hug. He had excused him to wipe Brown’s tears and snot off his jacket, and somehow found himself down in the bad cave. In front of the memorial cases he had avoided since his return days ago.

            There was Todd’s old robin suit, in the same place it had always been, the ‘Good soldier’ plaque stolen and destroyed by a revived Todd years ago, and replaced with a simple, elegant one that just read ‘Jason Todd-Robin’ That had been Drake’s idea to pacify both Batman and Red Hood, when it became apparent that Batman would not take the memorial down.

            Next to Todd’s suit was Damian’s very own Robin suit. He felt a chill run down his spine and finally understood why Todd had destroyed his memorial so many times. It was deeply unsettling, and a trauma to be addressed another day, because there was another case next to his. One with Nightwing’s suit in it.

            Damian froze in front of it as it clicked, as Grayson’s death finally hit it. He couldn’t move, he wasn’t even sure if he was breathing, or if his heart was beating. He could have been run through again and not noticed, because the red and black Nightwing suit was staring blankly out at him from the case. It’s posture too stiff and formal. The first thing that ran through his head, was that he never liked the red suit. Red was never Dick’s color. Blue was. Everyone knew it. But no one said anything when he showed up with a red suit, because Richard Grayson had a terrible sense of fashion but would eventually see sense if given enough time.

            He wasn’t sure how long he stood there before he began to crack. Seconds, hours, it felt like days. He was breathing now, a little too quickly. He needed to get it under control, but couldn’t remember how. Breathing seemed like an impossible task. His chest _hurt_. Like some super had kicked him in it. He didn’t even notice the tears until a voice behind him snapped him out his trance.

            “Damian? What are you doing dow- Oh…” Timothy Drake stopped several feet away from him, his eyes flicked from Damian’s tear streaked face to the cases behind him. “oh…” he said again, quietly. Something flickered on his face. Had Damian not been Damian and Drake not been Drake, he would have read it as sympathy, sorrow, understanding.

But he was Damian, and this was Drake. So, he _knew_ it wasn’t sympathy. And he _knew_ what Drake was thought, what they all probably thought. Why had he returned and not Grayson? Grayson was the one who deserved a second chance. Not him. Damian couldn’t blame them, they were right. “leave me alone Drake.” He meant to sound menacing and intimidating. But ended up sounding like a sad 11-year-old boy. He wiped his wet cheek with the back of his hand.

The teenager’s face settled into something more neutral and familiar. He stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Damian. I just-”

Damian shoved his arm away. “I said LEAVE ME ALONE!” he swung his arm around and accidently hit the glass of his own memorial case, which shattered into a million pieces on contact. Super powers. Right. He’d forgotten about them.

He took advantage of Drakes surprise to run. He didn’t know where he was going, but he just couldn’t be _there_ anymore. The cave felt like it was getting smaller and darker. The manor was stuffy and full of people. He needed to be alone. He fled from the cave and flew, literally, into the city.

No one noticed him land on top on the top of Wayne tower, his dark hoodie blended in with the darkness better than his robin suit ever had. He pulled up his hood and watched the city below him while he tried to regain control of his emotions. Damian had been back for less than 3 days and he’d already run away from home. Father would be furious, but Damian couldn’t bring himself to care. So, there he sat, watching the city and getting lost in his own thoughts. Turns out, he had a lot to think about.

He had died. Actually died. He remembered being stabbed by his evil clone (talk about a cliché) and the world going dark. And then waking up to a tearful Batman. He kept checking for a giant hole in his torso, sometimes he could feel it and had to pull his shirt up to make sure there wasn’t a sword in his gut. And now Grayson was dead. Had been for months. Damian didn’t know how he died, but seeing as how Batman wouldn’t even look directly at him when he told him, it must have been bad.

Damian shook his head, not ready to think about that particular detail just yet, when he became aware of someone behind him. for half a heartbeat, he thought it was Grayson, he couldn’t help it. Grayson had always been the one to find him… before. Damian’s chest ached. He pulled his hood down and turned to see who had found him.

It was Cain. He frowned at her. She wasn’t even in costume, just wearing the same shirt and leggings she had when he left. “What are you doing here?” his voice was rough and cracked. From the cold night air. Definitely not because he had been crying.

“looking.” She said and gingerly sat by him. close enough to be present, but far enough for him to have his space. “everyone’s worried. Out looking.”

He pulled his knees up and hugged them. “I needed space. I just…couldn’t be there.” She nodded. “how did you find me?”

She chewed on her lip for a minute, the way she did when she tried to think of what to say. He knew talking was still difficult for her, so he waited. “Dick. This was his spot.  he came here when you…died… though you might…” she shrugged slightly.

“oh.” Damian’s heart twisted again. “Are you here to take me back?”

She shook her head. “suppose to. But wont.”

“Thank you.” He felt himself relax a bit. He wasn’t ready to go back. He was glad Cain was the one who found him. “Will you tell them where I am?”

She shook her head. “will tell them you’re safe, but want to be alone. They will not come.”

“Thank you, Cassandra.”

She smiled and stood to leave, stopping to gently squeeze his shoulder. “come home before dawn? Please?”

He nodded and she vanished.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kind of a boring chapter. Damian calms down, and talks to Commissioner Gordon.

Damian stayed on the roof all night and flew back just as dawn broke. He slipped in the open window of his bedroom. Titus greeted him from his spot on the bed with a lazy wag of his tale, but didn’t bother getting up.

It looked the same as it always had. He knew Pennyworth and Father had hardly entered his room after his death. There was the homework he had been working on months ago, still on his desk, though some one had removed the apple he had been eating. His sketch book was still stashed under his mattress, safe from nosy siblings who assumed he would never hide something in such an obvious place. The only thing that was missing, was the Gotham Knights baseball hat that usually lived above his desk. Grayson had bought it for him the first time he had taken Damian to a baseball game. It was the first time anyone had ever given him something without underlying motivation. He turned away.

“Titus. Time for a walk.” He held open the door for his dog, who wagged his tail, as he did when ever Damian called his name, but did not move. “-Tt-. Titus, come on.”

Titus put his head down on his paws and closed his eyes.

“They’ve spoiled you while I’ve been away.” he tried again. “how about…food?”

Titus popped up and was out the door before Damian could blink.

“Fine. I see how it is.” He followed his traitorous dog down to the kitchen and feed him a generous amount of left over steak while he cooked his own breakfast.

* * *

 

It was impossible for Damian to be alone. Everywhere he went someone found some excuse to go along with him. Drake ‘forgot’ his laptop in the living room and insisted on staying while Damian read. He would have left and read elsewhere, but then he would have _lost_ to Drake. And that could never happen. It was an uncomfortable few hours, every so often Drake would look over at him and act like he was going to say something, then abruptly change his mind and go back to silently watching him over the computer screen. Even Titus had taken to following him around with his nose pressed to Damian’s side. It was a relief when Father had finally given in and allowed him to go on patrol with him.

The night had been a little livelier than the last. Batman and Robin had taken down a group of young wanna-be gang members trying to get in on dealing drugs, and had ditched them at the police precinct as usual. Was wasn’t usual, was Batman’s insistence on staying and talking to commissioner Gordon.

He greeted Robin with a relieved smile. “Robin. I heard you were back. It’s nice to see you. I was getting worried something bad had happened and no one bothered to tell me.” Damian didn’t believe for a second that Gordon hadn’t been aware something had happened to him. He was a very smart man, and his daughter was Batgirl, even if he pretended not to know.

“Commissioner, I-” Damian had no idea what lie, if any, Father and the rest had told the commissioner about his disappearance. “I apologize if my absence has caused you distress.”

“try not to do it again, son. I’m getting old, my heart can’t take much more of that.” He turned to Batman. “now, what was so important you needed to talk to me in person, instead of a semi-cryptic note hanging from my window?”

Batman handed over the evidence they had collected, and told Gordon about his theory on how the drug underworld might be changing. Damian had to bite his lip to prevent himself from saying they should just ask Todd. He was, after all, and expert on the drug trade. Being a former drug lord and all. (and Damian knew The Red Hood still got a sizable check from a few of them. Although Batman wasn’t supposed to know that.) so Damian amused himself by walking along the building’s edge on his hands until they were done.

            “you know,” The commissioner turned his back on Batman, allowing him to ‘vanish into the night’ “it used to drive me insane when your predecessors did stuff like that. The first two alone almost gave me more heart attacks than I should admit.”

            Damian flipped upright. “use to?”

            “I got used to it. The second Robin liked to pretend to fall off the building a lot.” He rolled his eyes. “The Third one usually stayed on his feet. But sometimes it seemed like _he_ was worried about losing his balance.”

            “What about the first Robin?” Damian heard himself say. It was a bad thing to say. He had been in a good mood, hadn’t thought about death in hours. Plus, Batman would be listening, and the ride home would be awkward now. Damn.

            Gordon looked down at the city below. “He was somehow the worst of them all. He was incapable of standing still. Always jumping off the Signal, doing flips, handstands, and showing off in general. And he never shut up. I thought he was going to fall to his death while making a bad joke about the penguin’s clothes.” He smiled sadly before he looked back up at Robin. “his death was…tragic. I wanted to say I’m sorry for your loss. I know the two of you were close.”

            Now it was Damian’s turn to look away. “why would you think that?”

            He gave the boy a funny look. “you two always worked together well, and he talked about. A lot. I mean, you were Robin when he was Batman.”

            “You _knew_ he was Batman?” Damian wasn’t surprised that Gordon knew the man in the Batman costume had change. Everyone knew. Grayson never even tried to pretend to be Father. But no one knew _who_ he was.

            “of course, I knew. Kid, no one makes a bad Joke like Nightwing. And he smiled far too much.”


	3. Chapter 3

   Damian was leading a mission for the League, as he had done countless times before. The inhabitants of a village had stolen something from Ra’s al Ghul. Damian was to retrieve it, no matter the cost. The villagers, in betraying the trust of the League of Assassins, had forfeit their right to live.

   They were all to die.

   Damian watched as his men dragged families out of their houses and into the streets. Able bodied ones were forced to dig a mass grave. Damian himself stood with the village leader, bound and gagged. Forced to watch his village die for his insolence.

   “was it worth it?” Damian asked him. “whatever you took, was it worth the lives of all these innocent people? These people depended on you to keep them safe. Look at how you’ve betrayed him.” the man sniveled and tried to speak. “be silent. Did you not think we would go through with it? You were told what would happen if you ever betrayed us. The League always fulfils its promises. Come. The time has come.”

   He prodded the man to his feet and lead him down to the edge of the pit. At his signal his men began to herd the villagers into the pit. The children went first. They were killed swiftly and painlessly, there was no need for them to suffer. Next, the elderly, the women, and finally the men. And very last, the leader himself.  Damian held him over the edge of the pit, forcing him to look on the corpses of those he’d sworn to protect.

   “look at what you’ve done. This is your punishment. Look upon your mistake as you die. You should not have betrayed us.” He sliced the man’s abdomen and pushed him over the edge. He would die soon, but it would be painful. He turned to his men. “fill in the pit and burn the village down.”

   He turned away from the massacre, to come face to face with Nightwing, mask off, sitting on a rock. “Dami, how could you do that?” he didn’t look angry, just…sad.

   “See,” Red Robin stood next to him, cowl down, twirling his bow staff like a baton. “I told you he was a monster. I can’t believe you chose _that_ over me.”

   “Grayson! I-” Damian scramble for an answer. “I was just-”

   “you were just what? Following orders” Red hood scoffed and tucked his helmet under his arm. “as if anyone would care. You just _murdered_ a village of innocent people demon brat. Do you even know why?”

   “they stole…something...” he couldn’t remember. What had they stolen? Why did the whole village need to die? _Why did he do that?_

   “Wow. You don’t even know what?” Spoiler said, her arm around Orphan. “Pathetic. Right Cass?”

   Orphan nodded. “Pathetic.”

   Damian felt like he was sinking. He looked to Grayson. He would help him, he always helped him. “Grayson…Dick… please?” Nightwing looked away.

   Batgirl protectively put an arm between them. “Honestly. What did you guys expect. He was raised by monsters and demons. Of course, he’d be one himself. He should have never become robin”

   Nightwing nodded. “it was a mistake. I’m sorry everyone. I don’t know why I did it. Tim should have been Robin”

   “you heard them.” Damian spun around to see Batman, Father push away from the computer in the Bat cave. (When had they entered the Bat cave?) and approach him. “You are not fit to be Robin. You never were. You are, and always were, a mistake Damian al Ghul.”

   “no.” Damian whispered. “Father please.”

   “I am not your father. You are no son of mine.” Suddenly a blade appeared from his chest, and he fell to the ground in a pool of blood. Talia al Ghul pulled her sword out of the former lover’s body and stepped over him to face Damian.

   “He is right my son. They were all right. You belong with me. It’s time to come home. Your mission is complete.”

   “mission? What mission?” He looked down, and saw Nightwing bleeding at his feet, Damian’s sword through his chest. He was dying. He dropped to his knees beside the man “No! I didn’t… I didn’t…”

   Talia laughed. “but you did. He is dying. And the rest will follow shortly.” She kneeled and kissed Batman’s cheek. “Good bye Beloved.”

   Behind him he heard a scream. He turned. There, was what looked to be dozens of Damian clones, cutting their way through his family. Batgirl stood of a grievously wounded Alfred, before she way taken out by a sharp hit to her back. Damian could hear her spine break. Red Robin and Red Hood stood back to back, fending off the clones, until a dagger managed to get past Red Robin’s guard and land in his neck. Red hood took several arrows before finally dropping beside his younger brother. Orphan stood over the body of Spoiler, her neck had been snapped and almost bent backwards. None of the clones could even get close to her. She took them all down flawlessly, and then she noticed she as the last one standing. Damian saw her give up. She purposely dropped her guard and allowed a knife to slam into her chest.

   He felt Nightwing pull at his arm. “this is your fault. You let them do this.” And then he was dead.

   “I’m sorry.” He told his brother’s corpse. “I didn’t mean too…I’ll make it right. I promise.” He pulled his sword out as he stood up. “I’ll make it right.”

   He ran across the room, and up the stairs into the manor, where Talia was ripping down the portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Ra’s al Ghul at her side. He charged them screaming.

   He didn’t make it.

   Just steps into the room, he was blindsided by a man in a mask who grabbed him and threw him against the wall. Heretic.

   Damian quickly stood up and made a grab for his weapons. They were gone. Over Heretic’s shoulder Talia smiled and said something about finally having a perfect son to her father. Heretic grabbed Damian by the throat, hoisted him in the air, and stabbed him.

* * *

 

   Damian awoke with a start. He sat up and tore his shirt off. No sword, no hole, no blood. He was alive. It was a dream. Just a nightmare. So why couldn’t he stop shaking.

   Titus whined slightly and crawled over so he was practically sitting in his lap. Damian wrapped his arms around his dog and tried to calm himself down.

   It was a nightmare. He had nightmares all the time, they all did. The first part of the nightmare was normal, he had that one all the time. But the last part… he shivered. That had never happened. He had to watch as the people he cared about, _his family,_ were killed by people with Damian’s face. And then be killed _again_ by his clone.

   He buried his face in Titus’ fur. But he wasn’t dead anymore. He was alive. No one had died. They were all alive, in the manor, like they had been all week. And if he listened closely, he could hear them all asleep in their rooms, except Brown whose Mother was still alive.

   Except they weren’t all alive. His mind reminded him. Grayson was dead. And he was never coming back.

   He stood up and walked out of his room, Titus at his heels, and straight to Grayson’s bedroom. It was empty. There was no one there to comfort him, to sneak him cookies and talk at him until he felt calm enough to sleep again. He took a breath and entered the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bad chapter. i'll try to do better next time.

The first thing he noticed was how dusty it was. Alfred must not be able to enter the room yet. The second thing he noticed, was his missing baseball cap hanging off the bed’s headboard. He couldn’t help but smile a little. Of course, Grayson had taken it after his death.

He closed the door behind him, went straight for the bed, snatched Grayson’s blanket off and wrapped it around himself. It wasn’t like the other blanket in the house. Mary Grayson knitted it for her son years before her death. It was one of Grayson’s most prized possessions. The blanket was baby blue, and in far better shape than it should be, and apparently magic.

Grayson had told him that when he was little, he would have nightmares. Of silly things like monsters under his bed, dragons, and kidnappers. His mother had made him the blanket and told him she had used magic yarn, and that the blanket would protect him from bad dreams and keep him safe in the night. The first-time Grayson had caught Damian wandering around the house after a bad nightmare, he had pulled the blanket out, told him of its powers and wrapped it around him, despite Damian’s protests. He never admitted it, but it was one of the best nights sleep he’s ever had.

He gently pulled back the ‘Flying Grayson’s’ poster and opened the fireproof safe behind it. Inside were photo albums, a spare Nightwing suit, weapons and some childhood stuffed animals. He took out the photo albums and settled on the floor, and against Titus and began flipping through them.

Grayson loved photographs. He had them all scanned and backed up in several places, but he loved to have hard copies and insisted on keeping them all.

The first book held pictures of Haly’s circus. People whom Damian had never seen before, but held special memories for Grayson. There were pictures of his parents. Standing with other members of the circus, and later, baby Richard Grayson. John Grayson looked almost exactly like his son, except his nose and cheek bones, Dick had gotten those from his mother.

There were pictures of every birthday, holiday, special circus events, and every place Haly’s had ever toured. A 6-year-old Dick Grayson stood in front of the Eiffel tower, with the biggest, chocolate and sugar filled crepe in his hand, and was obviously on a massive sugar high.

The next book was of him in the manor. There were dozens of candid polaroid pictures of Bruce, Alfred, Batman, The commissioner, and several villains. Damian almost laughed trying to imagine a small Grayson jumping out of places and snapping pictures of the riddler trying to run from batman. There were pictures of him as robin, several with a young batgirl. There were pictures of all his friends. Barbra Gordon, Wally West and Starfire made up the majority. (Man, he really had a thing for red heads.) And superman, there really were a lot of pictures of superman.

There were pictures of Jason Todd when he was robin, usually sporting bruises or cuts, but smiling. There were pictures of Tim Drake, looking somehow scrawnier than he did in the present. And there where pictures of him.

There was the picture of the time Grayson had dragged them all out for a picnic. Todd and Brown had started a food fight, Damian had shoved pudding in Drake’s hair, Barbara Gordon (still in her wheel chair) had put an entire sandwich down Grayson’s pants, Cain had hidden in a tree and pelted them with various vegetables, and Father had given up trying to control them and ended up beating them all. Except Cain. She switched to his side almost immediately.

He really missed Grayson.

* * *

 

Damian woke to someone climbing in through the window. He shot up and grabbed the nearest object and hurled it at the intruder. It was a horrific stuffed bear wearing an original robin costume

Jason Todd caught the teddy bear easily. “what?” he looked from the bear to the boy huddled in the corner. “Dami? What are you doing here?”

“-Tt- none of your business Todd.” He untangled himself from the blanket and stood. “…why are you here?”

He pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his pocket and shook it. “only place I can smoke in peace. Your turn.”

 He didn’t look directly at his brother. “couldn’t sleep.”

Todd took in the nest Damian had made on the floor. “ah.” He put the cigarettes away and dropped the bear on the bed as he made his way over to Damian. “nightmares huh?”

“no…maybe…” he sat back down. “shut up Todd.”

“I said nothing.” He scratched Titus behind the ears and picked up the blanket. “the magic nightmare blanket. You know, I’m pretty sure he actually had this thing enchanted.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “not to repel nightmares or anything. Just so it wouldn’t fall apart or anything.” He smiled slightly. “I remember the first-time Dickie bird pulled out this god damn blanket. Slept with it for weeks after my first encounter with scarecrow. I actually believed it had magical powers… don’t give me that look, Dick could convince a cow it could fly. Why do you thing I went around saying shit like ‘being robin gives me magic.’?”

“I thought you’ve just been insane your whole life.”

He flipped Damian off. “you’re hilarious.”

He made a face back. “I thought you and Grayson _never_ got along.”

“eh. We had a pretty bad start, but once he realized he that taking his anger out on an innocent kid was a shitty thing to do, we got on a lot better. Unfortunately, I died not to long after that. And then, you know, I kind of came back all crazy.” he ran a hand through his hair. “has Timmy talked to you yet?”

Damian cocked his head. “no.” talked, no. stared at from across the room, yes. “why would Drake wish to speak with me?”

“well, believe it or not kid, he was pretty upset when you died. Besides, he was closer to dick than any of us, ‘cept for Babs of course.” he shrugged and caught a glance of the clock on the nightstand. “damn. You better get back to your own room before someone realizes you’re not there and they freak out again. And if they freak out again, I’ll be forced to stay in this fucking house for god knows how long. I can’t do that. If I have to spent another week here, I’m going to go crazy. And I tend to stab family members when that happens.”

“that won’t do. I would like to be alive for at least 2 weeks before I get killed again.” He bent down to pick up the albums.

Todd laughed. “noted. Don’t worry about those. I’ll put them away.” Damian raised an eyebrow and Todd smirked. “there’s some pretty good black mail material in these kid.”

“fine. Titus, let’s go.” Titus lazily got to his feet and followed his master to the door.

“Hey, you forgot this.” Todd threw the blue blanket to Damian. “the worst part about coming back to life is the nightmares. It takes time, but they will get better.”

Damian bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something mean and degrading. He knew Todd was right, and the blanket did make him feel better. So, he just nodded.

“If you ever want to…talk about it…dying and all.” Todd scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “you can talk to me. I get it.”

“I…I appreciate it Todd. I might do that…someday.”

He nodded and picked up an album. “cool. Now scram”

Damian gathered up the blanket and pretended to not see Todd slip the picnic picture into his pocket.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and being so nice to me.

It took half a week for the manor to empty out again. Todd found a picture of Drake dressed as Wonder Woman, (“It was for a costume party Jason! Steph and Dick put me up to it! Stop laughing.) and published it on the internet. He had been thrown out of the manor almost immediately.

Damian sat in a chair is the office, sketching while Father worked on the Wayne Enterprise stuff that he had let pile up. “Father. When will Drake leave?”

“hmm.” He didn’t look up from his computer. “we’ve been over this Damian. Tim is my son and is welcome to stay here if he wants.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. He’s been here for a long time. A very long time.”

“maybe he just likes being home. I’ve been to his apartment, it’s barely habitable.” He flipped through a folder and marked something in it. “or, maybe, he’s hanging around because he missed you.”

Damian mumbled something and went back to his sketchbook until they were called for dinner.

* * *

 

Father sat at the head of the table, and Damian and Drake sat on either side of him, right across from each other. Drake was very interested in his risotto. Not in eating it of course, but in pushing it around his plate and eating small bites whenever Pennyworth entered the dining room. Father was talking about something. He wasn’t paying attention.

“Father. I wish to discuss something with you.” He said when Father seemed finished talking.

He politely turned his attention to his youngest son. “Yes Damian?”

“I would like to visit Grayson’s grave tomorrow.” He kept his face passive as Father suddenly tensed up and turned to Drake. “Drake, would you like to accompany me?”

Drake choked on a spoonful of risotto. “what?”

“I will not repeat myself.” He couldn’t help glaring at him. “yes or no?”

“I…” Drake looked at Father and back at Damian. “is this a trap?”

“-Tt- yes. I’m planning on murdering you at our brother’s grave.”

“Enough.” Father intervened. “I think it’s a great idea. Tim?”

“…fine. I’ll go with you.”

            “excellent. We’ll leave before 10.”

* * *

 

            They left at 11am. Damian was sure Drake had done it on purpose. Drake had driven them to the graveyard. (“I’m perfectly capable of driving. Why doesn’t anyone allow me to drive?” “gee. It could be because you’re like, 12 years old Damian. And you wrecked a Batmobile that one time.” “-Tt-”)

            Grayson’s grave was quiet, but in no way deserted. It was covered in fresh flowers, stuffed animals, pictures, there were even a couple kiss marks on the grave its self. Drake added a small bouquet to the mess. “the funeral was nice. Lots of people.”

            “oh.”

            “well. Not too many people.” He ran a hand through his too long hair. “Bruce tried to limit the number of people who came. No costumes for the public funeral and all. But it was pretty hard for him to keep people away. Beast boy turned into a bird and kept dive bombing paparazzi who tried to crash it. But it was nice.”

            “Drake.” He turned to his brother. Determined to get this conversation over with. “Todd and the others believe we should talk.”

            He tensed up and began to fidget with the hair tie around his wrist. “about what?”

            “You’ve been…stranger than usual since my return.”

            “well. A lot happened.” He snapped the hair tie. “do you really want to have this conversation _here”_

            Damian crossed his arms and stared him down. “I will not leave. Continue.”

            “Damian, I don’t know if I want to have a… a _feelings_ talk on our brother’s grave. It’s kind of weird.”

            “It’s what Grayson would have wanted it and you know it. Now talk.”

            Drake sighed. “fine. but you asked for it.”

            “I’ll keep that in mind.”

            “After you…died things started going south. Dick was really depressed. It was like he was a puppet at times. He still smiled and laughed, but it was easier to tell that he was faking. And, I don’t know, he just wasn’t _there_ as much. Bruce was terrible. He became obsessed with bringing you back to life. He crossed lines. Especially with Jason. They had just started getting along again, and Bruce took advantage of that to use and manipulate him. Fuck. He brought Jay back to the place he died and tried to force him to remember how he came back.”

            “that…that couldn’t have gone over well.” Damian was shocked. He found it hard to believe that Father would do something like that.

            Drake shook his head. “it didn’t. Jay flipped out and it took a lot for dick to convince him we weren’t all in on it. He said that if Bruce has just asked him, he might have helped. He missed you too. And then Dick died. And everything got worse. I didn’t…handle both of you dying very well.”

            Damian raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.

            “when you died, I tried to… not feel anything. But it didn’t work. I just… we were always fighting, and I thought I hated you.”  He looked at Damian, then back at the grave. “when you died, I tried to act like it didn’t matter to me.”

            Damian raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.

            “I didn’t work.” He said in a very small voice. “I don’t hate you. And I really missed you.”

            He couldn’t help it. He took out his phone and held it up. “say that again so I can get a video of it. No one will believe me otherwise.”

            “You ass. I’m trying to have a nice moment here.” He glared at Damian, who just shrugged. “you’ve been hanging around Jason and Stephanie too much.”

            “well yeah. Dead Robins club.”

            “what? You’re a part of that?” he asked incredulously before shaking his head. “never mind. We’re not talking about that now.”

            “fine. continue then.” He gestured at Drake to continue.

            He huffed and mumble something about Damian being a brat under his breath. “I just wanted to tell you that I missed you. And that I don’t hate you.”

            “I…do not hate you either Drake.” They stared at each other for a moment before drake burst out laughing. Damian stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “what are you laughing at?”

            “I’m sorry it’s just…we’re just so bad at this.” He nodded toward the grave. “Dick would have probably hit us upside the head and make us apologize.”

            Damian lifted his chin. “Grayson would never hit us.”

            “right right. _Jason_ would hit us. Dick would sigh at us disapprovingly. He’d still make us apologize for how shitty we’ve been to each other though.”

            He cocked his head and though for a moment. “possibly. I won’t apologize to you though.” He held up a hand before Drake could protest. “and I don’t want any apologies from you either. I want… to put all that behind us and be civil.”

            Drake crossed his arms. “you have done so much worse to me than I have _ever_ done to you. And you just want me for forget about it?”

            “I never said that. I _want_ to move beyond the stupid things I did when I first arrived.” He aggressively offered his hand.

            “…are you asking for forgiveness?” he smiled “aww Dami.”

            Damian felt his face warm. “do you agree or not?”

            He shrugged and shook Damian’s hand. “It’s not like either of us is going anywhere. So, fine, civility it is… I don’t suppose you’d admit we’re family?”

            “Don’t push it Drake.”

            “Ha, figured. I’ll wait at the car. You…do whatever you need to here.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away.

            Damian waited until Drake was out of sight before he turned to the Grave. He just stood there, for a long time, and let himself be sad. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, the one he’d been sketching on earlier, and placed it among the flowers.

            “Todd took this picture from your photo album. I thought you’d want to keep it, so I drew it from memory…I-” his voice cut out and bit his lip to keep if from trembling. “When I came back, other than Father, you were the person I wanted to see most. I really wish you were here when I came back.” He wiped a traitorous tear off his cheek and took a deep breath to steady himself. “I wanted to thank you. For everything you’ve done for me. You were the first person who cared about me and believed in me even though I did nothing but mess up and let you down. I never deserved your trust, but you gave it to me anyway. I wish I could have told you this earlier… I-I…Goodbye Grayson.” He gently touched the headstone and walked away, trying to ignore the painful way his chest clenched.

 

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry.


End file.
